


spoilers.

by Inventivetic



Series: Little Farts of Inspiration Go a Long Way [8]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Gen, Sans Remembers Resets, Spoilers - Undertale Genocide Route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-10 08:49:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14733824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inventivetic/pseuds/Inventivetic
Summary: Sans saw the human's fowl demeanor, but he didn't expect that Papyrus would too, and still go.





	spoilers.

**Author's Note:**

> ughhhh writer's block + crippling allergies = me
> 
> im blowing my nose so hard I feel dizzy

_**?tpuahrebü se eiS nehcusrev muraW** _

 

Papyrus was always empathetic. He always went out of his way to correct suffering. He didn't _do_ pity. Never ever. Sans, well, he just didn't see caring as necessary with his brother doing all the caring for him. Maybe Sans would offer advice sometimes, so they _kinda_ worked together. That didn't mean he wasn't a little harsh, when he was alone. Sans didn't know when it started, but he kinda liked it. If what he said wasn't funny, he got a high off it, just knowing that Papyrus wasn't an perfect angel. He was flawed. He got angry, and not in the “let-me-humor-you-by-throwing-a-temper-tantrum” angry, but genuine annoyance. Behind all the smiles and giggling and the happy flailing, he was a pretty temperamental guy. Was it really that surprising? They were complete opposites.

 

(“ARE YOU SERIOUS? SHE COULD HAVE REACHED THE TOP SHELF IF SHE HAD JUST GRABBED THE STOOL. SOMETIMES SHE ACTS BRAIN-DEAD—”

“YES, THROW A SNOWPOFF AT THE PUZZLE AND THAT WILL FIX EVERYTHING—”

“WHAT AN IDIOT.” )

 

That's why his Mercy completely blind-sided him.

 

He tried oh so hard to abandon that part of him that didn't cling to the Royal Guard, to popularity—it was a shallow desire on the surface, but Sans knew he just wanted to feel needed. Wanted. His stupid MERCY. He forgot how gentle he was, under the tough guise. Sans shouldn't have let his guard down.

“I'M GOING TO STOP THEM,” He'd said. ”EVERYONE IS ASSUMING THAT MERCY WON'T WORK, SO THEY NEVER TRIED. I'M GOING TO TRY. I HAVE TO TRY, AND MAYBE THEY WILL TOO.” And that was that. His final testament, his final words. In reality, his beliefs were born from stead-fast cockiness, a notion that he could do it and it would work because everyone else had tried to stop the human incorrectly. It was MERCY. He was merciful.

 

It was suicide.

 

Just—

 

How could he be so selfish? To throw everything so he could appeal to a human who didn't care for him, care for the value of life. Sans cared. Why couldn't he have stayed for him? Now, here he was, following the trail of death, waiting for the right moment to strike, for the human. There wasn't anything to tether him to this world. Soon, there would be no one and nothing left. There would be no death, for there would be no life. A stagnant, dead timeline. The final hallway was ruined. His jacket was torn, the edges frayed where the knife had unevenly cut into the fabric. His shirt stuck to his split bones, red, sweet, liquid became a large stain over his chest, where a couple of condiments were stored. Sans looked up blearily, feeling like he was loosing himself to sleep. A deep rest he'd never awaken from. He felt his SOUL projecting a voice, his own voice, but he couldn't hear it. All he could register was the adrenaline draining out of him, and pain, blinding pain seeping in to take its place.

 

 

 

 

  
**_nehcusrev hcafnie se eis nnew ,nrednä hcis nnak nosreP etsmmilhcs eid tsbles nned_ **

 

 


End file.
